The Console Room
by Hollywoodx4
Summary: The Doctor has learned a lot from Rose Tyler. He'll continue to learn from her. But most of the learning, he realizes, takes place in the console room. Also, the TARDIS may favor her just a bit. [Rose x Nine, Rose x Ten, Rose x Eleven]


The Console Room

It's here that she finds him, leather jacket hung on a railing, himself knee-deep in wires and muttering to himself. She shakes her head, moving toward him and plopping down in the captain's chair. The Doctor says nothing, and she realizes that he has not yet noticed her presence.

Rose lets out a large sigh. He says nothing, does not even flinch from his work.

He does not say anything until he can smell tea, able to feel a bit of its steam warming him. He looks up to see Rose, clad in shorts, a tank top, and slippers, holding a cup of the hot liquid to her lips. Her eyes are closed, and she is marveling in the taste.

"Oh, you're awake." He says, setting down his sonic and brushing off his pants. The Doctor moves to take a seat next to her. "How was your first night on the TARDIS, then?"

Before thinking he has gently snatched the cup from her hands, taking a sip of her tea before handing it back to her. She shoots him a look but does not protest, merely shaking her head.

"It was fine. Great, actually."

"Great?" He raises his eyebrows at her, wondering exactly what made her night so fantastic.

"Yeah. Call me crazy, but I think this box you've got was trying to help me sleep."

"And how's that?"

"It was…humming. Humming and turning the lights down, making the temperature just right."

It was in the console room, between stolen sips of Rose Tyler's tea, that the Doctor realized he had made the right choice in his new companion after all.

(…)

They were dancing, the lights in the console room twinkling above and around them in a fashion only the TARDIS could have fabricated. He'd dip her and she'd laugh, her grip tightening on his leather jacket for support.

When he was done teasing her, Rose laid her head on his shoulder, sighing contentedly as they continued to sway. This time, Jack would not interrupt them. All that seemed to exist in that moment was Rose, her Doctor, and the blinking lights of the console room begging them to dance a bit longer.

(…)

They were fighting.

The Doctor and Rose _never fought. _

Well, that was a lie. They'd gotten into petty arguments before; 'you can't eat _all _of the bananas now, Doctor.' 'We're not going _there, _Rose…' They'd never gotten into such a row before.

If you'd asked them what they were arguing about, neither would be able to answer. It started with something small, similar to their talk of bananas and travelling, and had escalated to biting words and bitter remarks.

"You have no idea where I'm coming from here!" Rose shouted, throwing her hands in the air. Her face had grown near the color of her namesake, her voice hoarse from yelling. The Doctor put his hand on the side of his face, exasperated.

"I know _exactly _where you're coming from, that's why I said no!" Until this point in their row, the Doctor hadn't raised his voice one decibel at Rose. Now, hearing the intensity of his raised voice, all the blonde wanted to do was duck away and hide for a while.

"We should talk later." Rose's voice was small, tired and wavering. The TARDIS materialized her door closer so that she would not have to walk far, and she slunk back to her room. He heard the door click shut and sat himself in the captain's chair, putting his head in his hands.

He pulled out his sonic and, by nervous habit, began to tinker with part of the console. The Doctor winced and pulled back his arm as he felt a small shock prick his finger. Shaking his head and ignoring it, he moved back to his work. Rather, he tried to before receiving another swift shock.

"Oi, stop that!" The TARDIS simply smitted a stubborn whirring, as if she was mad at him as well. He rolled his eyes. "It's not as if this row is all my fault!"

Her whirring grew later, and the Doctor groaned. It was there, while he was trying to tinker on the console, that he discovered that his own ship favors Rose Tyler over himself.

(…)

It's in his tenth regeneration when he realizes just how much trouble he's in.

He starts using pronouns to describe her, Rose, and it frightens him. It's involuntary, too, the words 'my Rose' escaping his lips before he can find the power to stop them.

She grins at this, though, and he figures she doesn't mind.

It's not until they're wrapped tight in an embrace, finally reunited after a particularly close encounter with a couple of aliens, that she responds to the use of the pronoun.

"Rose, my Rose, I was so worried I'd lost you." He places a soft kiss to her hair out of subconscious desperation and relief. She grins, mumbling into his shirt.

"You'll never lose me, my Doctor."

(…)

They make up all sorts of games, the Doctor and Rose. They like to call it a way of 'passing time that is relative,'

He sits in the captain's chair and she stands a few feet away from him, a container of popcorn in one hand. The Doctor makes a teasing gesture and then opens his mouth wide, Rose responding with a famous tongue-in-teeth grin before reaching into the popcorn bag. Pulling her arm back, she lobs the ball of food at him. He leaps from the chair in attempts to catch it, but it flies over his head, the console, and across the room. His eyes widen, and she simply laughs. Soon they're doubled over, looking at the runaway popcorn before Rose dips her hand back into the bag, glancing over at the Doctor with mischievous eyes.

"What are…" The popcorn hits the side of his face. She is laughing twice as hard now, a sound that makes his stomach flip and his hearts double in speed. "Oi!"

Another piece of the salty treat hits him, and a twinkle moves to his eyes before they're chasing each other around the console room, throwing popcorn and laughing like two raucous school kids.

(…)

He doesn't realize just how much he loves her until he has to lose her for good.

He thinks his plan is brilliant; his Rose will be happy, she'll finally be fulfilled. She'll be able to live the sort of life a human should be living. She'll have a child, maybe more, and possibly a dog. No, a cat, because he fondly remembers her love for the bloody animals. Rose and his copy can share a mortgage…a life.

A life without him.

And when all is said and done, and he's left to his thoughts and the things she's left, seeing the stars lacks the appeal it once had to him.

The TARDIS hums low and soft in a sort of mourning and the Doctor leaves the console room and his memories behind for a moment of restless sleep.

(…)

He is with Clara and they are working, him sat on the swing underneath the console while she works in the captain's chair. They chat idly, not really carrying a conversation but keeping each other company.

They've landed somewhere unknown, and now they are trying to get back on track.

He wonders why the TARDIS would send them here and keep the doors shut, but is more intent on fixing things at the moment to understand the attitude of his machine.

The door clicks open, and Clara looks up from her work. A beautiful blonde walks up through the door, key in hand and gaping at her surroundings. The girls lock eyes and neither really know what to say, staring in stunned and confused silence.

The Doctor, from his place on the swing, knows that something is up by the way the TARDIS hums, whirring while her light illuminates a soft, happy gold over the bits of the console room he can see.

"Uhm…Doctor?" He hears Clara's confused voice and joins her at the center console. Her eyes move to the door and his follow.

The sight of her nearly makes his hearts stop, and he grips onto the console for support as she grins at him, tongue through teeth, as he's dreamt she would since the day he left her.

"Your eyes are the same." She remarks, and that's all it takes to have him barreling across the room, gangly limbs and all, before engulfing her in an embrace so tight that she's left gasping. Rose wraps her arms around him and squeezes, as if he'll vanish before her eyes. She rests her head on his chest, and it's as if nothing has changed. He lowers his head so that his lips hover next to her ear, and she shivers at the contact of warm breath against her skin.

"Rose, my Rose." He breathes. It's like a sigh of relief, a breath he's been holding since he left her. They're both crying at this point, the Doctor and Rose, but they are tears of bliss that Rose wipes away from his cheeks with the pads of her thumbs; an action he copies with hers. "Rose Tyler, I love you."

Her hands fly to his suspenders and she grips them, pulling him in and pressing their lips together. In that moment, they both know that Rose Tyler never backs down on her promises of 'forever,' no matter how long it takes her to get back to _her _Doctor.

And finally, it is the Doctor and Rose, in the Tardis, as it should be.


End file.
